Random Stuff

SilentxMidnight wrote:

"Answer me, dear being, how there could be such? If only aloud one kill upon a life assassins would have none but one job upon their life! and in that they would loose their very own kill for kill for another, who though destroying a 'paper' trail, could keep their 'one' kill. so said sword would shatter under circumstance." the spirit smiled as she mused the thought upon her mind. "but alas, i have seen all i wish to disappear disappear for death brings that to all one at a time."

"Impatiently I care not for other replies, as finally I have received one to this post, that pleases me, even though it has been posted elsewhere repeatedly and some have realised that they are not immune themselves, none have even hinted at the conundrum that exists within itself, but alas, not spotted by a human then"

On to other things then...

Quote :

"Why be in a job you hate, when you can be in a job you love"

The Jatsman is trying very hard not to crow here, just commenting "I heard this quote for the first time, long ago, in my teens, and after chasing the money god for many years, amidst the debris of shattered dreams it finally sank in, and from then on a very different path was taken, although at times the path was hard and rocky indeed, impenetrable forests cleared, with aching muscles, bloody scars, creating this new dream, and in some ways it is much the same, albeit a much brighter shade of green, yet along the way, and much more now, I meet more of the people I want to be, and be with, than ones I want to avoid, and would have been, to more of that then"

"Another question for you then." the spirit stated as she moved to center stage holding a crying clown mask to her face. "which equals more. People whom you wish to be, to be with, or those whom you wish to avoid. and upon the thought of avoidance, do you wish to avoid them but can not, or do you avoid them and yet feel a twinge of guilt within you for being 'cruel' in a way toward them."

SilentxMidnight wrote:

"Another question for you then." the spirit stated as she moved to center stage holding a crying clown mask to her face. "which equals more.  People whom you wish to be, to be with, or those whom you wish to avoid.  and upon the thought of avoidance, do you wish to avoid them but can not, or do you avoid them and yet feel a twinge of guilt within you for being 'cruel' in a way toward them."

"It does not matter what others think of you, it matters only what you think of them" the chameleon starts in response to your question "... although that should answer it in a nutshell, depending on how the spirit reads it of course, if it see's more than the dark side in others, for the only one that matters, is ones self, without whom, your question is irrelevant, so JATS is my priority then, as the ones that matter know, and no cruelty or pity for those that have chosen their own path, my compassion is reserved for those that need it most" withdrawing now from the spirits grasp, he searches through his posts, to reveal a little more, for it is all there, in between the lines of course, for the question is "who is JATS?"

The chameleon thinks back now..."I once did a contract at some care homes, and at one, adjoining it were a number of sheltered flats where some residents were able to live with some degree of self sufficiency, and as I planted copious amounts of spring border plants, I felt a pair of eyes watching me, within minutes she had pounced, this young girl, and was telling me all about her "garden" a small patch of earth, under her window, with a few straggly looking plants in, and some brightly coloured ornaments of her own making, her enthusiasm was quite breath taking, and I smiled and nodded, trying not to appear patronising, telling her what they were called and offered some tips for their care, jotted down on a scrap of paper. After pulling myself away, politely, to complete the job, I returned and knocked on her door, gifting her 3 trays of plants that were left over, something I often did, especially as I wasn't paying for them, and it usually got me a "thankyou", a cup of tea, perhaps, in return, but this time, instead of a few nice plants for the managers salubrious garden, I had given someone a whole new world, a degree of happiness I don't think I will ever achieve, second best I know, but, close enough for me".

"Do you know yourself" the spirit mused as she tossed her mask into the air and saw it come down to her, an angry devil. "or do you still search? are you yourself like so many who claim: I know myself. I have a Life, a Goal in said Life. I need not search a moment longer. Or are you as most of us, whom know that which is above is seemingly impossible, stating: I am myself but know myself I do not. I have a life, one of mine own which you may dean not worthy of a life. I have goals, but I haven't decided on all of them yet. I will always be searching."

"Well then I am one of the few, and one of the many" laughs the chameleon as he changes colour in the blink of an eye "... for only a fool reaches my age and knows himself so little, and only a fool too, thinks that life is a certainty, so "me too neither" then"

a very recent repost from elsewhere...

"A strange day indeed" ponders the chameleon as he enjoys the last glowing embers of the fire, yet knows he has to make those improvements needed, no longer put them off, to plan more luck and chance then "... like the strange occurrence this afternoon, when busy chopping wood, upon hearing a familiar sound, I looked up to see a chicken right in front of me, only feet from my axe, and while I laughed with utter bemusement, it went for a little walk around the house, clucking contentedly. As tempted as I was to swing the axe down across it's neck, with thoughts of it on the plate for next Sunday's lunch, or change my plans to build a log store and make a Chicken coup instead, I resisted, clutched it gently, and on a hunch, peered over a nearby neighbours garden, who I have never met before, and returned it to the grateful "Georgina" instead" and so, once more the chameleon is reminded "...one split decision, of logical planning, taking a left instead of a right, leaving early, arriving late, all leading to several chance encounters, that never would have happened, for all the planning then, you just never know what's going to happen".

"I am dead and yet wish to never know myself" mused the spirit "to know one's self is like to end a great story or play that one wishes to forever be there to see. ... no there is a better way to put it...what is it...OH! I know! its the end of an adventure! yes thats it."

"you are wise beyond your years spirit, let this adventure continue then" and he is inspired to open his store again, not so full now and not that the spirit needs it, just the feed of it perhaps, chuckles the chameleon.

"it can get complicated this parallel universe, this "half life" of the internet... for me though it is simple, no matter what persona is chosen, how many "mes" evolve from it, it's the same you, as in "daily life" which shines through, it just sometimes takes longer, as 30% of communication is non verbal, a simple smile, a laugh, the blush, flinch, a look of disgust, which is often missed in many a post, but the theme, the intention, shines through, and your internet life becomes the same old you, whatever chameleon or ghost you choose to be, you have a choice, of how you want to be, if tomorrow you say, "from now on I will......", then it will be, regardless of what's gone before... go on then".

the spirit laughs a bit and once again disappears, liking her game of 'hide and seek'. "You know what is fun, dear being? Being a mute when alive and dead!" her chuckling continues, the sound softly filling the area and hiding her'hiding place'. "When I was alive I was a quiet being, i would hide from humanity in fear. hark i say fear! I would not look at a soul nor breath a breath i did not have to gasp to live. and then, upon my death, i became more so mute! Aye aye mute that is, besides here of course! but out in the world i haunt i am mute. here in the world i 'created' i am not. but the fun part is i do not wish to change. you see being mute is entertaining. you get criticized for being strange, yelled at for not fighting back or answering, and even abused for said strangeness. but the most interesting parts are what you learn. your told everything, you see everything, you become everything.

"Now how do you become everything, ye may ask, is simple. When your told all things, you learn as much as you can, you watch all around you with an eye that is so pointened on detail that not even the slightest shutter can slip past you, then you start to become your knowledge, your grace, your livily hood becomes one of endless hunger and thirst. for what? simple. Knowledge of all things. something that can never be quensted..." now the spirit was in a whisper. "even in death."

More chocolate required I think, the taste lingering, enjoying the substitute "...  just the cadaver of daily life left behind to merely exist, regardless, while the spirit is free, I see, when those around you are blinded, intentionally, and the spirit will take its sustenance, devouring all it can, shining brightly for now, while the cadaver crumbles, and then despite all it's wealth, so too will the spirit fade, for if the spirit is to live on, the host too must be fed, that harmony required, to enable the spirit to survive, and have the chance to truly grow beyond it's diet of words, when it's time to hit the road, with help from those that know the way, and gather from the bitter sweet symphony of life..." drained, but pleased at the coming to an end of this most difficult of post, the chameleon closes his eyes, to dream, of what might become "... for the spirit is capable of great things, if it learns how to live on, as a phoenix returning from the flames, so, as I fade, for now, think on spirit, return to Flea's post and read again, perhaps to be reborn then".

(the goblin knew that he was thinking up the reply to that one now, tending to put his new stuff here, as opposed to the "last post" thread where he was chatting to spirit while editing)

repost

"...beautiful, ah there is raw talent here..." said the goblin, adding "...and if there is one thing I like it's talent, and I am well fed then..." in fact, the goblin felt that there were "live writers" here, just explaining something "...a poster posts, a "live writer" reposts, no not on the same forum twice that is, but there's a natural progression here, starting at the moment one does a post one wants to keep, one stores it, then one wants to add a picture to it, then one wants to share it perhaps, or edit it while sharing that is, then when the forum has seen all your previous works, one turns up at another forum too, and then another, until one meets someone else on this internet, who just explains it and tells one that it is a natural progression here, that moreover, one is not alone too, no there must be many "live writers" out there by now..."

"Good morning Flea" says Jats on to his toast now, and still weary from last nights endeavours, the spirit having drained him so well, whereas much easier on another writers site, that as yet, has no writers "I look forward to that reply, as ever, to that most difficult of posts, until the next one that is" he adds, before reposting said posts...

Quote :

Cool idea! Very interesting pictures! Thanks for awesome thread!

"Why Thank you" replies the chameleon, drawn back here by your post, through bleary eyes, as he partakes in his ritual of his morning tea "... and no surprise that you are new here, as often it takes a fresh pair of eyes to see what others have become and blind to, so, be careful what they make of you here, take what you will, and begin your journey to self then, I look forward to you writing... and the pictures, now some criticise for that..." let's get this one out of the way then he thinks, while we are at it, editing his post on the hop "... visual creatures are the humans, know your audience, let them jump into the picture then, and their perspective will not always be as you intended, even when you find the perfect match for your text, and to illustrate, as you would with your cover, draws them in, go seek them then, your reader, for not enough will come by hunting, being visual and lazy beasts too, proof being, how I found you then".

"But remember too the power of the spin" thinks the chameleon, adding to that previous post "... for we have more than pictures and our words at our disposal here, unlike dusty books, every combination of the media is at hand to enhance your written word, as some do in their static blogs you will find, as you move around, collecting as you go, lot's of shiny pretty things, to grab the eye and then steal the mind..." he hesitates here, thinking this is all too much, too quick, as if I'm some kind of book burner or something, nothing could be further, still, go on, go on, no turning back now "...and care not if the reader is good enough to read your stuff and sparingly raid that thesaurus, for to succeed your message needs to come across, and not be lost in a sea of unfathomable, abstruse, recondite, labyrinthine confabulation".

"Aye to live is a weary task. And I do not live. I am dead through and through. And how fun it is to be dead!" the spirit pauses and sighs "I jest still though, it is a fate not well enclind to those who live so fully as to feel for live, to crave life, and to forever wish to live. Not immortality mind you, for that is, as i could slightly show, a curse. but to live forever in the eyes of another. that is what living forever is. should you influence one life you may die but you will live on in their life. and if they pass on your influence then you can continue on in the eyes of another until finally you are forgotten. yes we all will be forgotten. not because some of us have no reason to be remembered, but more over because eventually all you know of will die. perhaps they will die as i did, but true i shall die in death one day."

"Well" he thinks, grateful, yet disappointed too "... the spirit lets me off lightly today, reverting to type" so the chameleon discards several possible posts, and instead, chooses love not death.

"Isn't it great those early days when you learn how you both like to take your tea or coffee, the little likes and dislikes, the way a certain kiss or touch gets a certain response as you explore each others bodies time after time, and while there are occasions when hard sex is just right, and whatever games you want to play, day or night, it's those times when you make love, that constant, the loving restraint, much better than sex, on and on, a marathon of pleasure to look forward to, well into your old age, never wanting to stop, to find someone that special, always wanting that shared comfort, to be "My Better Half and Me", that's love then.

The spirit moves wearly to her chest of books and sits beside it, rummaging through it. "I'm afraid i'm strange like that, dear being, i my thoughts are strange as is that." she looks through many books but sits back, sighing in disappointment. "have ye ever looked for something, only to never find it?" her hand reaches back and falls on a book. she smiles looking at it. "only to find you've always had it? to know you are what you wanted? or perhaps to live what you want yet always want more. isn't that so very selfish....but we are all selfish beings, the humans, the goblins, the spirits, the chameleon, all beings. why are we selfish? simple. we want to much. we want 'money' to get the 'goods' we want. we want a dashing mate to produce dashing offspring. we want heat when it is cold, ice when it is hot. day when it is night, night when it is day. but what we all want most of all, is to live. even those who wish to die want to live. you see wishing and wanting are two different things.

"wishing is something that you think about, something that you ponder often. wanting, on the other hand, is something you don't have to think about. you know you want it. picture this, or perhaps i shall show you myself, a small child in front of a television. they see a new toy in all its gleam and spectacular effects. they see the kids on the television playing with it. in their mind they are: "I should have that. I deserve that!" and then they run to whom is their birther or seeder and beg for it, saying over and over: "I want it i want it!" until they get that very thing." the spirit look of into the distance that is her books

"We are all still children in that aspect for do we not all want something that we see? we all say at some point: why do they have that? they don't deserve that! I do! I've worked so hard, i've done so much! its should be mine!'"

"A world without want would be peaceful"

"Too easy" smiles the oft unselfish chameleon, his presence here simple testimony of his altruism, he hints "...for you have forgotten one thing, it is there in all your books, to give, but not the giving of the media, in that I agree..."

"It's hardly surprising that the media gets away with manipulating the truth is it really, it starts from a very early age, and we accept it, encourage it even, buy them the toy, the book, take them to see the film, the dvd, and let them watch it over and over again, you know how they are kids, the same old book, every night, the same old dvd, day after day, and so it gets entrenched, wedged firmly in, and consequently it's harder, even as the intellect kicks in, to shake that conditioning, and see, that you are seeing what, they want you to see, for it is oh so subtle at the best of times, and hardly surprising it convinces the minds it created then" the chameleon sighs "... but, the truth is not as cute".

"I wish to do an experiment. I wish to see what stripping all things of the media from one's life would do to them." she sighs as she puts her books back in place, the dust adding to her from as she rots away just as the pages do. "I did it upon myself and thus i am very strange. when i went back to the world the other saught i was seen as something more than strange, some victum of something, so odd beast that knows nothing. Yet they could never prove i knew nothing. no matter how much they tried to change me i showed them it was they who needed to change." the spirit pauses and looks up slightly, gazing off into nothing. "No, i am wrong. No one needs to change. Everyone is who they are. to say they need to change is to say you are ultimately right and that you have no need to change. everyone changes, the need though is not there."

"A new day a new topic" the spirit muses "People say a new day is a new beginning. How is this? how can one awaken to a new beginning? You awaken one morning only to find yourself trapped in a space completely the same as the night or day before. you find all your things that you have boughten over your many 'new beginnings' and you smell the smells you have always smelled. you are not born again, you are not death recarnent. you are you, as you were, skin and bone, sound and sight, all the same. well, on the sound and sight you may hope it is the same. and when you rise you want the same things you always want, the same types of food, the same types of nourishment.

"all your problems are still there as well, along with the blessings. so tell me, what is new about it?"

"The word love is thrown around so simply these days. When i was alive it wasn't as much like this. Now if someone gives you something that you want, you tell them you love them. if someone has something you want, you tell them you love them. you could have no feeling toward them and yet you say you love them." the spirit sighed as she thought back to it. "Now when someone is 'in love' they my just want what their mate has. now when someone is 'heads over heals' it might not be for the other person. there is cheating everywhere you look, games with hears and unhooked claws. its a dangerous place now, the field of love. its a game now. but the few who still look to love for love can seemingly find happiness. so long as they know where to look that is."

"Well that experiment for me is ongoing, part by circumstance, and a lot by choice "reminding himself to elaborate as here they are not aware of JATS or privy to the all the hints of his previous posts, which changes each one read "... planting seeds season upon season, to teach them to grow, and watch them grow by it, to play and be enriched because of it, igniting the fire in their minds, as their imagination drives the bed time stories on, "do the funny voices Dad" so not a book or dvd, we write our own, by encompassing their inherit self sufficiency in all things we do, and as a result only three years on, food no longer comes in packets, but is picked from the ground, and vegetables are now eaten secretly stolen from the vegetable patch, a theft that I allow, nay encourage, and music is not merely now something they hear from the latest gadget, but crafted from their minds and played by themselves, and where these gadgets have to be used, it is not that of the masses, as they type and explore, on the bargain PC which they put together, on Linux which they installed, and while playing the Penguins games, subliminally are learning that Windows, the God of the masses, is shit you see, and though there are not many here in the postion yet to use all of this, but, as I often say to them, as I say to you "don't copy your parents in all that they do, just take the best of them", and use what you can along The Road, together, or alone"

"beautiful post and image" he smiles "... and I have touched on love, for now..." and the chameleon returns to daily life briefly, and will come back at a tangent

(the goblin is amazed, wordless, and thoughtful saying "...thanks for this thread you two...")

repost from elsewhere, the "how come" thread, the goblin going silent there

Quote :

How come congrats xxxxx I love you
How come on another note...I'm not sure if I like the Flea
how come his posts seems spammish and a little just off subject
How come you guys vote: stay or delete

how come, a reply is called for here
how come, this crossroads of ones fate
how come, an infinite sea of internet
how come, that question opens the door
how come, the integrity of ones posts
how come, this post was the goblin's last
how come, without malice nor regret
how come, the time wasn't right here
how come, the "band" mores on now
how come, xxxxx had guessed it then

The spirit twists and turns around the stage in a sort of dance. she whispers to herself so softly it is again the wind around her. "This place entertains me! Oh how i've longed for such. Nay i prayed for it with unreligious motives." the spirit stopped and thought for a moment. "Religion and I do not get along you see, I have studdied many and many more than I deamingly should. I get in many a fight with all spirits and people alike for my studys. it is not my fault that perhaps the greatest religion is no religion for when you have none you can study, un base, them all."